


Disowned

by Llama1412



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-17
Updated: 2011-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23307946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412
Summary: Arthur saw his first execution when he was twelve. Slight canon!AU
Relationships: Arthur Pendragon & Uther Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Disowned

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on livejournal in 2011. Posted unedited.

Arthur was not unfamiliar with the term "execution". All his life, there had been murmurs of executions occurring each week. But it didn't really mean anything to Arthur. It was an abstract concept and just something that always happened and would always happen.

Then he'd turned twelve. He was old enough to attend executions, his father said. And it wasn't an option.

The morning dawned bright and sunny and Arthur would've been excited for the new experience the way he knew that townsmen often were about executions. He still didn't really know what they were, but if they entertained the crowd so much, surely they were good.

Only the crowd wasn't excited when he arrived, walking behind his father and wearing formal clothing. The townsmen were shifting restlessly, darting glances at his father's guards, and the women of the town were hiding their faces behind handkerchiefs.

Arthur frowned. Weren't these execution things supposed to be a good thing? His father usually arranged feasts and celebrations following them, after all. Why weren't the people happy?

Arthur bit his lip and looked up at his father. Should he ask? But his father might get angry. It was often hard to tell what would set his father off, but Arthur not knowing something that he probably should if he paid attention to his tutors might do it. Maybe he should wait until they were alone. Then, at least, if his father did get angry, Arthur wouldn't be yelled at in front of everyone.

There was a commotion to his left, and when Arthur looked over, a woman began screaming. "No, no, please no! My son is innocent! He's innocent! Please sire, he has done nothing wrong! Kill me, kill me instead!"

The guards came forward and pulled her back to the edge of the crowd. Arthur glanced at the king. He was unruffled, acting as if he hadn't even heard the woman.

"Bring forth the prisoner," Uther's clear voice commanded.

The mob of people parted and two guards walked forward, a young boy of perhaps seven hanging from their arms. His face was vacant, his eyes defeated. His bruised limbs dangled limply and he made no attempt to free himself. He knew his fate and he was trying to forget it.

Arthur gasped in horror. This boy...surely this boy wasn't the prisoner. What could he have possibly done wrong?

"You are charged with the crime of sorcery. What have you to say to this?"

The boy wasn't looking at them. He didn't bother to speak, just stared at the woman, his mother, and let the guards tie him to the stake.

"Please," Arthur could hear the woman weeping. "He doesn't know magic. He was just trying to help. Our crops were failing. He thought it might help. It was harmless; a game. Don't kill my child. Please, please don't kill my child!"

Uther ignored her. "Light the flame!"

Another guard came forward, wielding a torch, and dropped it on the pile of dry kindling. The flames spiked around the boy and Arthur's eyes went wide.

What...what was his father doing? Why wasn't anyone stopping this? The flames, they would hurt that kid! He'd seen a village taken victim by fire once when he'd followed his father on a patrol. It had been horrible. The people, those few who were still moving, had hardly been human.

Surely his father wasn't doing that to someone. He couldn't be. His father would never hurt someone who didn't deserve it. But...how could this child possibly deserve it? The mother had said he'd tried to do magic on their crops. All sorcerers were evil, of course, but...but how could this child be evil? His mother even said he wasn't magic! She could've been lying, of course, but...but that shouldn't matter! If the kid was evil, then surely they could fix that! They shouldn't have to hurt someone so young!

"Father," Arthur tugged on the king's trousers. "Father, stop them. He's going to get hurt! Stop it, you have to stop it!"

His father turned and glared at him. "Sorcerers must be hurt, Arthur. They must be stopped before they can overrun us. Our kingdom must stand strong against magic, and so sorcerers like this must burn."

"But...but, no! Father, Father, you can't!" Arthur's voice was becoming shrill and they were starting to earn looks from the crowd. Below the smoke, Arthur could see the boy's eyes looking at him, still defeated, but with a twinkle of spirit in them. _Thank you_ , they seemed to say.

The flames curled closer to the boy and he began coughing. "No. No, Father, stop, please! He's going to die! He's going to– "

His father glared down at him, anger tense on his face, but Arthur couldn't bring himself to care. The boy began screaming, horrible sounds that were ripped from his lungs.

"No! Father, Father, stop it! You have to stop it! He's not – he's not – you can't kill him! Please, no!" Tears were running down his face now and his breathing was hitched.

"Guards," Uther beckoned. "Take the prince away." Uther's lip curled as if to tell him, _you're a disappointment. You were supposed to be ready, to serve the people as a pillar of support. You have failed_.

Hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him away. Arthur's eyes were clouded and he couldn't see who they were, but he fought against them. "No, please! Father, stop it! Stop them! Save him! Please!"

He was being dragged farther from his father when the horrid stench reached his nose. It caused him to gag and choke and the boy's screams intensified in his ears. Arthur hunched over, his body rebelling, and his lunch was lost to the courtyard floor.

He coughed and whined. "Stop it. Please, stop it."

The guards didn't stop. They just kept dragging him away until the wretched screams of the child were lost in the evening air.

\--

He lay sick in bed for a day, Gaius's concern his only company. He felt horrible. Every time he breathed, the thick air tasted like smoke and his lungs rattled. He could not eat. Anything brought near his mouth reminded him of the food the boy would never get to have.

Finally, he had wallowed too long. His father summoned him to the hall, demanded his presence and would not be deterred. Arthur dragged himself out of bed and into suitable clothing. There were guards stationed at his door and they flanked him as soon as he started off. He wouldn't be allowed to escape his father's anger.

"How dare you speak against me." Uther's voice was low, but the words held a threat. He wasn't going to rage and shout. No, he was going to assert his authority and Arthur knew it. "How dare you stoop to whining and begging. A prince never begs. A prince never asks for anything. You have a duty to Camelot and to your king and you have failed. If this ever happens again, you will be revoked of your bloodright. You will no longer be my heir. Is that clear?"

Arthur started at his father. He should feel shocked, indignant. His father couldn't take away his bloodright! Arthur was his only son and his natural heir! He should be angry. Instead, he felt numb. The memories of the execution still looped in his mind and the sick feeling in his gut had yet to disperse. "Why did you kill him?" he whispered.

Uther's glare narrowed. "Guards, leave us." When they'd done as he ordered, Uther stepped closer to him, his boots clicking against the polished floors. "He was a sorcerer. He committed treason against King and Country. He knew the penalty and he faced it."

"He was a child."

"That is no excuse! Magic is evil and it will pollute the minds of all it touches! That boy was a sorcerer and sorcerers must die."

"He tried to help his mother, his family! That is no crime!"

"So he claims. More likely, he was using the magic to sabotage the crops of his neighbors. We are fortunate to have stopped him before Camelot faced a famine!"

Arthur shook his head. He stared at his father. "No."

"What?"

"No. He was just a child and he was just trying to help. He shouldn't have been punished for that!"

Uther lashed out, his leather glove leaving a red mark on Arthur's cheek. "You do not question me! I am King and my word is law. I have saved this land by ridding it of the evil that is magic! If anyone gives into the temptation of evil, then they shall be eliminated!"

Arthur's face remained twisted to the side, jaw throbbing. "I hate you." His words were quiet, but in the empty room, they could be clearly heard. He swallowed and firmed his resolution. "I hate you. You would let a child die for your prejudice and I hate you for it."

Uther's face turned red with fury. "Guards," he screamed, "take the prince to the dungeons! He will be spending the week there." As soon as the guards had Arthur firmly within their grasp, he turned away.

Arthur didn't resist and a week later, Uther appeared in front of his cell door. Arthur bowed before the king, asking forgiveness and it was granted. His title was safe and he remained Prince Arthur, Heir to the Throne of Camelot.

But from that moment on, Arthur never again referred to the king as his father. Sire, His Majesty, His liege, yes. But that man was not Arthur's father and Arthur would not claim him as such.


End file.
